Lucky for the Sun Posted by: Pamtonia Fraser I’d been living in Paris a few weeks when a book by Pamela Buchanan about Marie Antoinette thrummed in my head one wet morning, flapping little dust-jackety wings. That should tell you two things, the more obvious being that Paris is one unignorable city. Try to demote it to a mere environment and it’ll just crawl in your ear as you snooze à l’Américaine. The other is that, nine months later and counting, getting over my second marriage had its up days and down days. Unless you count a private title whose silliness should’ve warned me I was belling too many cats for comfort—La Brioche, C’est Moi—not a word of it got written. Until festive Cadwallers’ voices crowded a speakerphone and Tim’s news knocked me off my game, I hadn’t thought of that phantom book in decades. Having put mimsies and Rheumas to work checking imdb.com, I see the movie’s derived from some other broad’s bio instead. Oh her.
What do You think about Daisy Buchanan's Daughter Book 2: Carole Lombard's Plane?
